


Someone wake me up

by serapheim



Series: 30 Kisses [20]
Category: DBSK|Tohoshinki|TVXQ, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Celebrities, Drabble, Dreams, Established Relationship, Gen, Heartbreak, Imaginary life, Imagination, It is all in his head, Living in the dream world, M/M, Romance, Smoking, Song Lyrics, Song writing, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, but not really, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 11:38:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serapheim/pseuds/serapheim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was lost in his dream world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone wake me up

**Author's Note:**

> First POV. 30_kisses challenge #26; if only I could make you mine.

  
_“It feels just like I'm going crazy_   
_I guess that this is breaking up_   
_And now not even you can save me_   
_Will someone wake me up?”_

_**The Veronicas** _   


  
  
  
This morning I wake up feeling the old heartache settle over me as a blanket. I nimbly find my way through the kitchen to the coffee machine. Its sound is extremely loud and reminds me of the way you threw that cup at me, but missed. Hot contents and white pieces of porcelain littered the floor for hours because I couldn’t make myself care enough to clean them up.   
  
  
The coffee is scalding hot, but I don’t really feel it. I am tired of endless arguments, trying to see the whole thing from your point of view. I dread going out. Because it shocks me how after all these fights my heart still skips a beat when I see you.   
  
  
Keys in my hand, fast driving just on the border of suicidal, coffee in the lobby, and, yes, there you are – all crisp and fresh in a white t-shirt, black vest and that tie I bought for you two years ago. But there are also blue jeans and snickers – your discontinuity at best.   
  
  
You smile, I nod. We begin the endless journey to the twenty-seventh floor.   
  
  
In the tower of my mind my thoughts are kept in the farthest dungeon, so no word and no flicker of the eyes can betray me. We make a small talk. You ask what I did last night, and I laugh and ask if you stayed up all night composing. We talk of the nonsense things like cars and cell phones and music. We don’t talk about our fights or broken lives or threat each other with filling for divorce.   
  
  
Because even though in my mind we have been married for years, been fighting for over two because we still can’t decide who is going to keep the kids - you are still twenty-something and unaware of my feelings to you.   
  
  
The rehearsal is a usual mess of random jokes, high sung notes and music sheets littering every surface with an occasional plastic coffee cup surfacing here and there. It’s fun, and it’s tiring, and it’s all ways of uncomfortable. Your laugh is rich as a five-year-old whiskey and as intoxicating. You sing low, but laugh high. And your vest has that distracting soft quality to it; my fingers itch to rub it.   
  
  
The smoke break finds the two of us outside sharing a pack and a lighter the way we wouldn’t share our lives. It’s sweet and fast and addictive, just like the sex with you, I know I would never have. It’s been so easy to imagine all that and more, how I wanted three kids and you wanted none, and we had to compromise. Or how we bought the house and that car and how we argue every summer where to spend the vacation. I can see it all in my mind like a movie, every day of our lives that we never spent together - everything, from the first kiss to the last argument we had over the taxes.   
  
  
You throw away a cigarette butt and watch me finish off mine. Your eyes are dark and watchful, and I have a sudden feeling that you can read me as an open book. My hand shakes just a little, and I shake my head to clear it, because we still might marry one day and might even adopt two little kids - a boy and a girl, you said, smiling. But it is so far, millions of years far from now and what really matters is now and you and the look that you give me under those lashes.   
  
  
As if you know and approve and promise that one day I will wake up to see my dream become a reality.   
  
  
//  
  
 _Written: February 24, 2009_  
 _Revised: June 19, 2013_

**Author's Note:**

> This first POV can be read as either Jaejoong or Yoochun, but I always think that my inner voice sounds more like Yoochun.  
> Once again this one is kind of personal. Had been hunting me for months, before I settled down to write it. I love this song and I can still remember my feelings when I was writing it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Predictable things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/849132) by [serapheim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serapheim/pseuds/serapheim)




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